


Hunted dreams like hunted rats

by blooodymoon



Category: DCU (Comics), The Flash (Comics)
Genre: Flash Rogues, M/M, New 52
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-09
Updated: 2014-07-09
Packaged: 2018-02-08 02:14:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1922892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blooodymoon/pseuds/blooodymoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hartley already had enough problems convincing his boyfriend to come out already, he didn't really need the problem of dealing with two different lives in his head, especially when he wasn't even aware of that fact.<br/>So he does what every person would do in that situation, go slowly insane and dye your hair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hunted dreams like hunted rats

**Author's Note:**

> My entry for the ["Rogues Bang 2014"](http://roguesbang.livejournal.com)  
> All loves to my wonderful Beta and Artist: [Kidetz ](http://kidezt.livejournal.com) / [Meindraws](http://meindraws.tumblr.com)  
>    
> [Art for the FF](http://kidezt.livejournal.com/11491.html)
> 
>  
> 
> This story places itself along the Continuity from the DCnU and I takes dialog and senarios from Flash #8, #9, #12, #Annual, #23.1 and Rogues Rebellion.
> 
> Warnings: Somebody is slowly losing their mind in this story- or at least think they are, blood in surreal dreams
> 
>  **Edit:** Inspirated by this [FF](http://touchofgrey37.tumblr.com/post/39943523903/tricksterrune-asked-you-im-just-asking-to) from [TouchofGrey](http://touchofgrey37.tumblr.com/)  
>  (I knew that I forgot something, but still fuck)

It was a warm and sunny day in Central City, the perfect day for a date in a café with your boyfriend. It could be nicer if said boyfriend would finally admit that they were together so they wouldn’t have to put up the show of just being close friends. But that would get better, eventually. Hartley knew that it was hard coming out, especially in such an environment like a police station and harder when the person you wanted to come out with was someone with a criminal record, reformed or not. But right now he doesn't want to think about all that, now he just wanted to enjoy the day and the steaming cup of coffee in front of him.  
He smiled at David, who was letting his eyes wander around; trying to hide that he is checking for people they know who could see them, before the brown eyes met his and lips returned his smile. To his disappointment, he couldn’t enjoy the smile nearly long enough, because David had raised his cup to his lips.  
Hartley had reassuring words on his tongue, when suddenly there was the sound of a harried man coming in the café and stopping in front of his table. Without his super hearing, he wouldn’t had heard the slithering sound of shoes on the ground. But he _did_ hear it, so his attention sharply focused on the guy before had time to say to him. In the few seconds he had before the sound of frenzied words surrounded him, he noticed that the man had sun-blond hair, was a little bit larger than the average civilian, athletic, and very attractive with his handsome face and a smile that was blinding with relief.  
“Thank _god_ I found you. You won’t believe-”  
“Sorry, but I think you have mistaken me for somebody else.”  
Hartley would remember meeting somebody with that kind of smile. The smile which was now beginning to fade.  
“Don’t you remember?”  
The blond’s expression began to take a broken-hearted turn. Hartley didn’t really know what to say, so he just shared a confused look with David before giving the man an apologetic shrug. The man now let his, until now only on Hartley fixated gaze wandered to David, than a knowing look appeared in his eyes and a smile lade again on his lips.  
But it seemed not as bright and Hartley couldn’t lose the feeling that it was fake even if there was no real indication.  
“Sorry, you really look like a friend of mine if he had gone blond. Sorry to bother you. As he turned around to leave, Hartley called out, “I hope you will see him soon!”  
“Me too! Have a nice day, Piper.”  
Hartley realized only after the man had left and he had taken another sip of his coffee that the blond had called him by his code name.

 

If it hadn’t been because of such tragic reasons, like the almost destruction of the Gem Cities, Hartley would have enjoyed showing his talent in front of the Central City Police much more than he did. It was not the first time he played or directed in front of David. David had in the past visited some of his concerts and he had even given him a few private ones as well, but he always especially enjoyed it when he directed a whole orchestra. And this time not only was his boyfriend among the listeners, but also his colleagues and many friends.  
After the concert was over, he strolled through the people dressed mostly in black and blue, his gaze fixated on the pictures of the deceased police officers who had died in the events which had ailed the Gem Cities. After a shockwave which was partly caused by the Flash, the sudden loss of power had caused a massive blackout over the city as well as many other problems. And of course there had been a lot of casualties. One of the deceased had been one of David’s subordinates: Barry Allen.  
Hartley couldn’t lose the feeling that the name and the man sounded and looked familiar on a bizarre scale. He knows that he had never met the guy. David still wasn’t open enough to take such a step, but still.  
“That’s the point, Forrest. Motives don’t matter – having superpowers doesn’t give anyone the right to operate outside the law. He’s nothing but a self-serving vigilante.”  
It was hard with his advanced hearing not to pick up certain discussions, especially when the topic was something he himself had had more times than he could count. And because it was his boyfriend’s voice who said it, he decided to join the discussion with a hand on David’s shoulder.  
“Oh come on, David…Not all Vigilantes are self-serving. Some do actual good!”  
“Not all vigilantes are as easily reformed as you.”  
And there it was again, maybe it was better to choose a better time to fight this fight.  
“Instead of debating, how about you introduce me to your friends?”  
“Yes how rude of me. Patty Spivot, James Forrest. This is my…This is my… _friend_ , Hartley Rathaway.”  
Friend, how such a positive word could hurt so much was always impressive. Like a needle, small but when it was placed right over your heart, as powerful as a dagger. Hurting if moved even just a little. He knew that he probably didn’t looked too eager, but at the moment he didn’t care and he knew that he would spend the rest of the night in his own apartment, away from the man who only drove the needle deeper into his heart.  
But this was a mourning ceremony to help the people. So he would play his part, like a professional, and deal with his own problems another time.  
So with a smile he turned to James, who had earlier mentioned that his wife loves his music and engaged him into conversation.

 

“Hartley, it’s bad enough you show up at my work. But now you drop _this_ on me?”  
“What are you afraid of?”  
He had shown up at David’s office, because he thought that he owed that to him. To let him know what he thought was right and planned to do.  
“You’re kidding right? They’re already holding public demonstrations denouncing one vigilante. Now you want to go back out there and play hero?”  
“The demonstrations are why I want to do this. And it’s not a game. With Flash missing Central City needs me. It needs The Pied Piper.”  
“This City does not need another vigilante. And I don’t need you showing up here where people can see us.”  
That had stung. He could understand David`s resistance about the Pied Piper, but apparently the discussion wasn’t about that.  
“So that’s what this is about. You’re worried that people will start talking.”  
“That’s not it. It doesn’t look good to have a publicly acknowledged vigilante showing up-“  
“Stop!” Hartley couldn’t stand this excuse any longer.  
“Stop trying to make this about the Pied Piper. This is about us. You and me.”  
“If you can’t accept our relationship, how will anyone else?” David looked down, not wanting to look Harley in the eyes, when there was a knock at the door.  
“I’m sorry to interrupt, director—It’s just that, I was hoping you could sign off this leave of absence. Uh is this a bad time?”  
“No, no. Whatever you need, Patty. Uhm…just leave it here and I’ll sign it.”  
Patty left as fast as she had came and Hartley realized that this discussion would lead to nowhere.  
“Fine David…Keep your secrets.” There was no way he could get one step to change David's mind in coming out, or even convince him that being the Pied Piper helped people.  
Why couldn’t David see how much superheroes like the Flash were trying to help people? That there were needed and generally good people?  
They needed superheroes for all the supervillians, people like he had once been and couldn’t be stopped by just a normal police force!  
Why did nobody trust the Flash? Even after five years of him trying to do the best for the Gem Cities?  
Maybe he doesn’t always succeed and sometimes fuck up pretty badly, like the EMP signal and the blackout, but Piper couldn’t understand why they couldn’t trust him at least a little. Not complete trust, that would be foolish. Complete trust in something or somebody normally resulted in abuse of power and neglecting the capability to criticize them. There shouldn’t be a stature or not a whole museum or something, or maybe a museum, a Flash museum. Why did that sound so strangely familiar in his head? Such a sight or emblem of trust wasn't required, just a little bit of trust. But apparently David wasn’t seeing or understanding it.  
So he took long steady breaths before leaving the office. But he misled himself to bang the door, which probably hurt him more than David given his hearing, but he felt the need to do it to anyway. Something to channel his aggression somewhere.

 

_Green, everything was green. Green and red. Hartley walked around, cold ground under his feet. The cold crept slowly into his bones. It made him tired and lacking power, but he couldn’t stop walking. Where did he wanted to walk to anyway? He had a destination, hadn’t he?! So cold, so cold. Wasn't he wearing shoes? He lead head fall forward and he noticed that he was bare-foot. His pale skinned feet had no real contrast on the grey cold floor. He his head fall back, so that his eyes could see the reddish fabric or streams that decorated the sky. The endless black sky which was decorated with green and silver patterns. Patterns which were more than familiar and changed in front of his eyes. It was notes, notes to a song he had never seen before and at the same time looked so familiar. Like that sound was written onto his heart. Maybe he should play it. But he didn't have his instrument on hand. Or did he? He looked away from the sky and the song and looked around him. There was no flute or piano, or any other instrument. But then occurred to him, he still had his voice. He could hum it! But before he could open his mouth, his feet began feeling wet and nasty. He looked down and saw blood. A lot of blood, it streamed around his feet and just kept coming and coming. In a matter of second, or was it minutes? He was up to his hips in a sea of blood. He tried to run, but he didn’t know where and soon he could only swim. The level of the blood was rising and rising .And then he was drowning. Drowning in the red. Now he only could see red, no traces of green anymore, which had dominated the place before. He tried to swim to the surface for air, to survive, but no matter how hard he tried and no matter how hard his kicked his legs. He couldn’t reach it. And when everything was almost over, and he had given up, he heard the voice. “Not him. Not now.”  
“Not the rat-catcher.” _

Hartley awoke with such force he could do nothing more than to take a few deep breaths. That nightmare had been intense, more than intense. It had felt so real and not just nightmare real, where you think something is real and it takes you a few seconds realize it was just a dream, but so real it was scary. He could have sworn he just drowned and the feeling lingered like ghosts on his skin. He forced himself to take a few more deep breaths but couldn’t really get himself to a steady rhythm, so he rolled out of the bed and walked into his bathroom. He splashed cold water onto his face, before he looked up and inspected himself in the mirror.  
No no noo, it just wasn’t right! Why did it feel so wrong? It was wrong, so wrong!  
Stupid blond hair! Stupid wrong color ! Blond?! He wasn’t blond, he had red hair or more red-orange hair, like Wa…,like like he didn’t know who . Just like someone else. He had to fix it! He had to make his hair the right color, his color again!  
Hartley stared at his reflection on the mirror, his hands tightly gripping his hair. Yeah, and he totally know how to fix it! He let his fingers slide though the wrong-colored hair, before he turned on his heels and stormed out of the bathroom. He putted on his jeans and a sweatshirt, before getting his motorcycle keys and left the house.  
Even if the 24/7 shops forced horrible conditions on their workers, at least you could get anything you want at any hour, like red hair dye. He let his eyes glide over the red section from the hair dye products who were placed on the shelf.  
No, no, no, wrong color! Wrong color! That color was too dark, that too bright! They were all wrong! Everything was wrong! He needed this one tone, this special tone, his tone! An auburn tone.  
He stretched his arm out and let his index finger glide over the boxes, before his grabbed one, it was more out of instinct than actual want. And it was still not his shade. But the red was familiar, too familiar like the hair color of a friend. A dear friend he lost! A dear friend he wanted back! Wally! But he didn’t have a friend named Wally, he’s never known someone good enough with the name Wally, why did he want him back. He and his red-haired kids?!  
He sank to his knees, just wanting to lay there and cry. The few other customers in the store gave him more than bewildered looks, but he didn’t really notice or cared. Kneeling, he reached for a box which somebody had put unsorted away. It wasn’t the right color, but it was the closest he’s found so far. So grabbed it and just looked at it. He wouldn’t get any closer than this. And anything was better than this blond, which was just wrong. It felt so wrong! So not him! Like it belonged to a different person!  
After he has knelt there for god knows how long, Hartley got up and made his way to the check-out where a young and overworked teenager girl was sitting. He gave her a small smile.  
She looked at him before scanning the product.  
“Are you okay?”  
He gave her a confused look.  
“Yeah, yeah of course! Why shouldn’t I be okay?”  
“Because you’re buying only hair dye at 4 o’ clock in the morning.”  
It was this early? He didn’t notice.  
“But it’s not my place to judge, so sorry, sir.”  
“No problem,” he whispered more than answered, and handed her the money.  
“Have a nice night!”  
“You too.” But he was already halfway out the door. With fast steps he got back to his motorcycle. He was two steps closer to fixing his problem.  
Like the trip to the store, he didn’t really register the drive back. The only thing Hartley comprehended was that he didn’t have to look at the blond strands when he has the helmet on.  
When he stepped into his apartment again, he headed straight to the bathroom where he turned on the water tap in the shower. He didn’t wait so the water has the chance to get warm, as a former supervillian he had experienced worse. With hair dripping wet he gripped the box before ripping it open, he followed the instructions step-by-step.  
The time he spent waiting for the dye to dry he sat on the cold floor of his bathroom and let his thought run over him. Yes, finally he would feel less wrong, less like a different person. He would finally feel more like him. He just wasn’t blond! It just wasn’t right. His hair was the complementary color of his green uniform. His red hair and his green hood. That was right, and that would always be right!  
A glance at the clock showed that he has waited long enough so he stepped back into the shower. Cold water flowed over his head and he saw water stained red from the dye in his hair flowing like blood over the ground before disappearing into the drain. He closed the tap after the water had already turned warm and grabbed a towel. After he ran the towel through his hair for a good minute, he finally looked into his mirror and saw himself with unruly/messy hair, thoroughly dyed red.. It was better. Yes, it was more right. It was more him.

Hartley felt sticky and not the good kind – I just had amazing sex the night before-sticky, unpleasant sticky. But he really didn’t want to deal with it at the moment. He felt so tired and so comfortable in warm bed. He hugged his blanket tighter around him and tried to go back to sleep, before realizing that he just couldn’t ignore the stickiness. Rubbing his eyes, he sat up and found himself in a bed with sticky red spots.  
Oh my god, oh my god. Is that blood?! Her crawled back, grabbed the flute lying on the nightstand in an instinctive motion.and fell out of the bed just to crawl back even more until his back hit the wall. He forced himself to take a few deep breaths and listen for intruders. But there was no one except him in his flat, neither was there unusual movement in the apartment building. Still having his flute ready between his hands, he looked down at himself and noticed that he was wearing a sweatshirt and jeans which were both spotted with red dots – not white on green - and he didn’t know why he just thought that, but it wasn’t really red, more an orange-red, definitely not blood. Still, his clothes were ruined. What had happened?  
With the help of the wall he stood up and wandered through his home, looking for any evidence that somebody entered his home. His flute still ready for playing in his hands, his years as a supervillian taught him that you can never be careful enough, especially in a world where people could run at the speed of light. As Hartley entered his bathroom and saw himself in his mirror. It was the second time he backed away from shock that morning, but because he wasn’t lying on the bed anymore, it was more of a stumbling back than a crawling. He would have fallen embarrassingly into his bathtub after he stumbled backwards over the edge, if the fights with Flash hadn’t given him at least one good thing and that was fast reflexes. So he stood at an almost impossible gymnastic posture half over his bathtub, flute still in his hand and wondered if he had seen right? He lowered himself carefully so that he sat on the edge of the tube and took another few deep breaths. His mind had to play a trick on him. He didn’t have red hair, right? He had superhearing and not supervision, so it was totally possible that he had not seen right and he still had his blond pigtail. With shaking legs he got up from the tub and blinked at his reflection which had red hair, or rather, orange. Slowly, he began to remember his weird-ass dream or better weird-ass reality, but it still felt more like a dream and not real memories. Why did he ever think that he had red hair? He never had red hair; he had always been blond and never once changed it. He didn’t know, why he had thought that. He couldn’t explain it to himself. He could even track his thought process from last night. Was he going mad? How fantastic, he would be send to Arkham!  
Calm down, Piper! Hartley! Take a few deep breaths and wash off this stupid hair color - which was definitely not his! - out!  
His grip on the ceramic sink relaxed – he hadn’t notice that he had been gripping it- his let his eyes wander everywhere, except his reflection in the mirror. He didn’t want to see his hair. So he closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the cool mirror. Deep breath in, deep breath out. He could just wash the color out. It would be easy. Just get under the shower and enjoy it. Or at least try to.  
And with that thought, Hartley turned on his heels and slowly removed the sticky clothes off his body - they would be thrown away with the sheets - and stepped into the shower he did not intend to leave for some time.

 

Even after a few long, long showers the color has yet to come out, so he tucked the still reddish hair under his green hood and somehow that had felt just right however he ignored that feeling when he decided to reduce the chaos in Central City.  
Captain Cold and Heat Wave had been in a fight and were on their way to Iron Heights after Flash had busted them.  
After he had heard the news on a local radio show, he know that their would be trouble.  
You just didn’t transport two Rogues to Iron Heights and could hope for the best.  
So he wasn’t that surprised as the transporter drove over the edge of the bridge. He was more surprised that Captain Cold still sat in the transporter.  
Rogues stick together and rescuing only Heat Wave seemed odd He had of course heard about the tension between the Rogues and their new powers. It seemed unusal and just not right, especially with the new powers. The Rogues were criminals and sometimes flat out ass-holes but in a strange kind of way still family, but at least his hair as again the proper color. And why was he thinking that again?!  
His flute was already on his lips after he stopped himself from continuing with his train of thought. His body had moved on reflex and from his subconsciousness. So often he had gripped his flute when dangers situation where near. It was a relief that after all this time living a civilian life the movements were still imprinted in his body.  
As the first notes filled the air he could already hear his rats and birds obeying his command o save Snart. Not just because he doesn’t wanted somebody to die, but also because he was an old friend even when they even when they belong on different sides of the law now.  
“I gotcha.”  
Captain Cold more than a little bit relieved “Piper” filled the air.  
“How about you be a pal and let an old friend down, easy-like?” And that was more like the old Captain Cold, always wanting more.  
But even when he didn’t wanted Captain cold to die, he still wouldn’t let him escape.  
“We don’t think so, Leonard. Hang out for a while. My lovelies and I have a few more “Rogues” to catch. “ And with that he sprinted to his motorcycle.

With wind rushing in his ears he caught a glimpse of Lisa or Glider she now called herself. With her golden appearance it was clear that she must have gotten some of the new powers too. She was like a Golden Glider. Hartley only remembered her as being always there by the Rogues, but never actively involving in crimes. Too busy making out with Roscoe, no not Roscoe, Sam! He didn’t know a Roscoe! Has Lisa ever mentioned somebody with that name? Maybe an ex-boyfriend?! He didn’t think so. When he thought of the name, he thought of tops and green-yellow stripes.  
And the Top had mind-controlled them! Controlled them like a rat-catcher the rats. And only the face of a friend, of the Flash, had snapped him out of it. But it wasn’t the Flash he faced now, the eyes were not the right color! But he seemed familiar!  
No, what was he thinking?! There has always been just one Flash! One Flash in the red costume with blue eyes. He needed to concentrate! The noises of the rushing wind had borne down under the noises of his own thoughts. He concentrated on his environment, the rushing wind, the sound of the moving cars and of the heating asphalt under the wheels. He tried focusing on the task beforehand, the stopping of the Rogues and Golder Glider and help the Flash.  
“I got this, red!”, called he out.  
“Looks like we’re having a Rogues family reunion-“ Marcos word where hard to hear over the disconcerting sounds of his motorcycle, after one of Marcos flashes had hit it and he flew into a parking car.”-but who said you could crash the party?”  
The last words he heard before drifting into unconsciousness was “Traitor”.

_His head hurt when he opened his eyes again. All he could see was red, so much red. Icky red. He was drifting in a sea of blood, slowly sinking towards the bottom. He tried to move his arms but he just couldn’t, not now. He did not have the energy, he felt like he had been moving forever and had not once given his body a minute’s rest or break. Like he had not consumed anything with value. So he floated to the bottom. He heard and felt how his back landed on the hard cold stone.  
But he couldn’t waste a lot of thought on that, because he noticed how the blood began to move and create a swirl. A strong swirl. He looked around but there was nothing but red. He could see nothing but red blood. The swirl grow stronger and stronger, but even without something to hold on to, he still stayed in place. He began sitting up. After a few seconds, the level of the blood had sunk so much that his eyes were clear and he finally realized why the blood was fading. A few meters in front of him was a cliff, a cliff where all the blood was streaming down below the cliff like a waterfall.  
Hartley sat there for what seemed like hours until the pulling of the water around his hips became weaker and weaker and he finally had the energy to stand up and walk around the still ankle deep blood. Even when his consciousness screamed at him that he should run in the other direction his legs moved him towards the edge of the cliff so that he could look down. The water didn’t fall to the ground, it fell to nothingness to darkness. A black void. He didn’t know how to describe it or to whom he would describe it to, so he gave up and let his gaze wander around and something on the stone caught his eyes. There were written words. Written in blood, unclear to make out under the still slightly streaming blood falling down the cliff, the pulling of the water around his feets, trying to make him fall too.  
The red words of “ratcatcher” written in blood came to his focus, after the last of the blood had fallen off the cliff into nothingless. He toke a few steps away from the bottomless cliff. But soon he passed the point where he had been sitting previously, or at least he thought that was the point. He looked back and he noted that with all the “ratcatcher”, there was also “humancatcher” and “childrenscatcher”.  
Drip Drip Drip  
Hartley felt the blood dripped onto his hair and from there onto his face andhis head snapped up.  
“Rattenfänger”  
From the point over the Ä dripped blood and Hartley wanted to close his eyes, to shield them the dripping blood , but he just couldn’t turn his gaze away.  
His vision turned red. _

Hartley opened his eyes that he didn’t remember closing. His vision was still red but it was starting to fade, making room for brown eyes which reflected concern and relief. Somebody talked calming to him.  
“Hartley, hold on. It’s gonna be okay.”  
“D…David? I’m”  
Hartley couldn’t finish the sentence. His head spun to much. But apparently David had his Hartley’s head bedded in his lap and leaned over him. He tried to smile, but other than a small and forced one, his lips couldn't manage more.  
“Don’t talk, save your strength.”  
His body hurt in at a lot of placed and the only positive thing he could think of was that it seemed David was comfortable showing everybody what he meant to him even when he was in his Pied Piper gear. They had often fought over this issue, but Hartley couldn’t be more relieved that when it really mattered, David would be by his side.  
“Dammit, I’m…I’m so sorry!”  
Hartley closed his eyes, the background noises of the fight still around him and drifted back to sleep.

_“Rattenfänger  
Kinderfänger  
Fänger  
Fänger  
Rattenfänger mit viel Macht  
In bunten Kleider kannst ihn trauen  
Doch mach ihn zornig und du wirst sehn,  
als Jäger gekleidet versteckt er sich im Grün,  
nur sehn wirst du sein rot gefärbten Hut,  
die gleiche Farbe wie dein Blut.“ _

He was thankfully not at the blood soaked place in his dreams, just a just a chant following him around.  
And he couldn’t get it out of his head! He didn’t know what it meant, but he will find out. Thankfully there were libraries. He wouldn’t even know where to start to search.  
The ride on his motorcycle was short, shorter than it should be and it made Piper more than a little bit nervous. He couldn’t trust his feeling for time anymore.  
He was walking around, he didn’t really know where to look. But at least he could try to find out what was happening.  
“Entschuldigung, kann ich ihnen helfen?!”  
“What?!”  
One of the librarians was standing behind him with a helpful smile.  
“Oh sorry, I thought you would be German.”  
She looked down before she continued, probably uncomfortable with his confused look.  
“I heard you mumbling German under your breath.”  
He had said something? He had not noticed. Dammit! It was getting more and more out of hand! Maybe he should leave, but then again apparently it was German he had heard. He focused more on the woman with black hair who waited with an apologetic smile for him to say something.  
“Oh I didn’t actually know it was German. Those words just won’t get out of my head. I was searching for something that might be able to help me, but I don’t really know where to start.”  
“May I help you?”  
“You're probably busy. I don't want to be bothering you”  
“Not really, today is a lazy day. Can’t blame anyone after what happened to the city. Who wants to work after all that? Furthermore German is my mother tongue. Translating something should be easy.”  
She walked towards the next desk clearly intending Hartley to follow her. The woman was of average height, with black jeans and a white blouse and a braided ponytail.  
He hadn’t paid enough attention to read her name tag, but he had notice that she had one.  
After he sat next to the Liberian, who was already twirling a pen between her fingers, he tried to read the name tag, without trying to look like he was blatantly staring at her breasts.. She caught his look and before he could begin to explain:  
“Eva-Maria, but usually people just call me Eva.”  
The name sounded a lot different than when he had read it in his mind.  
He firmly shook her hand.  
“Hartley.”  
“And shall I sietzen?”  
What?! He couldn’t stop raising his eyebrows. And she giggled.  
“Sorry, I couldn’t resist. In German, the standard formal form is to speak to each other in third person Plural, we call it “sietzen” and if you know someone better you “dutzt” them and speak to them, like you do it in English all the time. Speaking with them as you! It’s a form as etiquette with comes with a lot of rules. It’s a show of respect. You always “sietzt” your teacher and bosses and normally for every adult until they offer you that “you”. Or you them if you have the same “rank” or they are “under you”. Of course this makes absolutely no sense in English. I’m sorry but the situation reminded me of a situation where you would ask in German.”  
Hartley had to smile at that. It wasn’t that it was that funny but more trivial and Eva - he tried to make her name sound the right way - talked so much and so fast. He had focused only on what she had said and finally he managed to pull himself away  
himself away from his thoughts.  
“But back to your problem. You mumbled something from “Rattenfänger” earlier. Did you maybe mean the Pied Piper of Hamelin?”  
“See the translation of “The Pied Piper of Hamelin” is not really accurate. In the original version is “Rattenfänger von Hameln”, translated it’s “The Ratcatcher of Hamlin”.”  
She wrote it down. And Piper, Hartley had a hard time forming the right words. Because why were his dreams in German?! He didn’t even speak German.  
“Shouldn’t it be “rat catcher”?”  
He crossed out the former word and wrote it under it.  
“Ohh yes, of course. Sometimes I forget, I still think it’s a little bit weird in English In German, when you write the words they belong together. Because of that you can form beautiful words like Donaudampfschifffahrtselektrizitätenhauptbetriebswerkbauunterbeamtengesellschaft.”  
Hartley just stared at the really, really long word as she continued writing it down and then at her.  
“I may have won a bet by actually remembering it. Otherwise, I actually had to google for the longest German word.”  
She pointed a finger at him with a defiant look in her eyes.  
He couldn’t help but laugh at that. It was a short laugh and that was not even really funny. Maybe he really was going insane. On the other hand, he felt much more relieved that he could still laugh.  
Than he began to tell her the rest of what he had heard in his dreams. If it wouldn’t be at the moment to practical he would be more freaked out that he could remember it word for word.

 

The day the statue of the Flash – a thanks from the Gorillas- was revealed, was a beautiful day. The sun was shielded by only a few clouds and David was holding his hand in public. It gave him a warm feeling.  
And a statue statue was the beginning of a path where the world learns to put/place more trust in superheroes, more trust on people like him. He had predicted this and soon a museum would follow with him and the other Rogues on display. And he should stop that. But his thought process never could just stop, not with that. Even when he tried to stop it, still lingered in his subconcious. Ready to trap him again into a spiral of toxic thoughts.  
So he tried to shift his focus on the statue again, which was seconds away from its reveal.  
The cloth covering the statue landed on the ground.  
And it was wrong! And right! It was a statue of the man he had fought, but not of his friend! Not of the third Flash. Not of Wa.. There wasn’t a third Flash! Not even a second! Never had been!  
Four, four, four! And Kid Flash and Impulse.  
Hartley stopped himself from pulling his still reddish hair. So he squeezed David hand, who looked concerned for him. He hoped his inner disturbance wasn’t showing too much on his face. But speaking or thinking disturbance of the heard the air buzzing like the sound before a flash and then with a **BANG** , real trouble showed its face in the form a murderess gorillas.  
Hartley or now the Pied Piper sprinted through the crowd, he had suspected that something bad would happened, so he had showed up with his costume hidden under a jacket, which he is throwing off now.  
“Flash is _**dead!**_ Killed by the same beings who freed me from the speed force!”  
No, no, he couldn’t be dead. Not again! And even if he was, he would came back. They always came back.  
Than he flung himself out of the crowd onto Grodd. With one swing from the hairy Gorilla arm, all air was knocked out of Hartley and of course he wasn't even holding his flute. Until now, even with all the spinning of his mind, he could at least relay on his fighting instincts. But that was gone now. His flute. His power.

 

_Rattenfänger Rat catcher  
Kinderfänger Children catcher  
Fänger Catcher  
Fänger Catcher  
Rattenfänger mit viel Macht Rat catcher with much power  
In bunten Kleider kannst ihn trauen In colorful clothes you can trust him  
Doch mach ihn zornig und du wirst sehn, But if you make him angry and you will see  
als Jäger gekleidet versteckt er sich im Grün, dressed as a hunter he hides in the green/natur  
nur sehn wirst du sein rot gefärbten Hut, You only will see his red colored hat  
die gleiche Farbe wie dein Blut. The same color as your blood._

_Hartley could hear the German and English overlapping in his head. It was said at the same time. It was the same, but still really distinct.  
His body was covered in blood, which dripped from the sky. It flowed over his skin and the bright colored clothes he wore. It was a mixture of bright green and dark green, red and a shining violet. He felt that some of the important bright and warm colors were missing. Missing from him. So he looked around and began walking where he suspected to find them. The missing colors. Step after step he walked over the blood covered cold ground. The sound echoed from somewhere he had no idea where from and after a walk that felt like ages he finally found a place, witch wasn’t just green and red. And he began to feel love and security. He began feeling warm inside. The only logical course of action was to run. Run to the corner with Blue and Yellow.  
“NOT HIM NOT NOW!” And then he was falling to the cold, stone ground.  
The second time in matter of months the citizens of the Gem cities had to fight for their survical. This time even harder. The cities were a wasteland, destruction everywhere and some places covered so much in blood you couldn’t see the ground anymore. _

 

Working on a task lessen the spinning of his mind, fighting for survival made it even clearer. And protecting a friend, no matter how strained the friendship had become, has made his thoughts the clearest he had felt in he didn't even know how long. It felt like forever.  
And even without that knowledge, he had sworn to protect the unconscious Lisa, as the Trickster -no Axel- had given her to Hartley, because the Rogues, or at least a part of the Rogues were on their way to fight the people causing the misery. And he had only thought that he wasn’t such a brat anymore, that he was more like, like, like. Just more mature. Age, prison and losing an arm did that to you the combined forces of all that and a good influence.  
But with that knowledge and his head clearer he had decided to fight, to help his old teammates. With who he now was standing back to back on the fighting field.  
But with that knowledge, that his head was more clear than his last fight. He had decided to fight, to help his old teammates. With who he now was standing back to back on the fight field.  
There were s mass of enemies, but as a group it wasn’t as impossible as it seemed.  
He choice every tune carefully. To distract. To handicap. And to hurt.  
With every tune he rhythmus he played and every note who came over his lips, the situation got more critical.  
It seemed to be hopeless until Glider, apparently awoken from his music apparentl and saved them from certain death.  
All together they managed to defeat their enemies.

After the fight he fell into a tight hug with David, who had fought and protected people in other places of the city.  
“Geez I still can’t believe it. Dating a cop.” And that came from Trickster of all people, the damned conman – he wished he had dated- wait, Axel wasn’t a conman. Not even close. More like the furthest away from it as possible. And he never had in his life wanted to date him. He hugged David tighter than necessary and hoped it was because  
because he was happy that nothing had happened to him. Which he was, more than he could describe in words. But he also needed someone to hold him, someone who keeps him in the here and now. So he held on.

 

He still held David tight when they were both lying on the bed while the radio played on one of the lowest settings. David wasn’t able to hear it anymore. But Hartley heard it, of course he heard it. He had always heard the things clearly, where for other people they were just background noises. Of course it was annoying and sometimes just too much, but after more than a decade living with it, he got used to it or at least as good as you could get used to something like that. But it also had its advantages, especially in instrument creating and playing them as well as conducting. As Pied Piper. It set him apart from others, it was part of him. He wouldn’t change it even if he was given the chance to.  
There were worse things than being able to hear the news, which was surprisingly celebrating the Rogues for their heroic actions, even if they were being reminded from the radio that they were still wanted criminals because you were too lazy to get up and turn it off.  
“There are also records of a man dressed similarly to the Trickster who has been fighting crime in the underground of the Gem Cities and helping people move to safe places.  
Hartley immediately tensed on the bed. The man from the café. The man who had called him Piper! How had he forgotten about him! Or how hadn’t he paid him any attention! Hadn’t run after him?! But how had Hartley come to the conclusion that these man were the same one?!  
Maybe he had met him as one of Axel’s gang members, and that’s why he had known him and his caped identity. That would make sense. Right?!  
But he knew that that wasn’t true, at least it didn’t feel true. He tried to focused, if it was true, but then he heard something numb. Something unclear, but with pressure. And then he notice that somebody was shaking his shoulders and it wasn’t just somebody. David. David, who was apparently screaming his name at him? How had he not heard, how could he not have possibly heard?!  
David’s voice still wasn’t as clear and loud as it should be, it felt so far away. David’s eyes were full of concern.  
“Are you okay?! Hartley?! What happened?!”  
“…I don’t know.”

 

Hartley had been really distracted lately, but his team of colleges had thought that it was because of all the crap that had happened to the Gem Cities that was making it hard to find a normal work routine as an orchestra again. So when he gave them an excuse saying he wasn't feeling well, he had just gotten a lot of nodding, and then he took a holiday.  
The parents Hartley would meet for the first time and who didn’t know David was gay until then.  
He had hoped that it wouldn’t end in a total disaster. He really couldn’t deal with a disaster at the moment.  
And so of course it had ended in one. It began after Hartley had taken a few deep breaths and squeezed David’s hand reassuring.  
David’s mother had opened the door with a friendly smile to greet her son until she notice their joined hands. And then the screaming. The fast, loud and especially high-pitched screaming from “fag” to “never grandmother”, “only son”,“how could he do this to them” and so on. It was the kind of screaming which gave Hartley murderess headaches and would probably follow him for the rest of his life.

 

For some people the steady rumble of a train was soothing. Hartley wasn't one of them. He just hated trains. He really, really hated them and he didn’t know why. He just always had. He had hated the heat and all the noises he couldn’t escape.  
He was on his way back to Central City - alone. David tried to make good with his family by explaining the situation, even if Hartley didn’t really understand what there was to explain. He was gay, and Hartley was his boyfriend. His boyfriend that he had asked to leave. It didn't matter that Hartley wanted to stand side by side with him to help and support him as he faced his parents. In the end, Hartley had given in, if only because he was already so tired from all the screaming and arguing. Tired and drained out were the only things he felt at the moment. So, so tired. So he rested his head back and tried to sleep. He just really hoped that he wouldn’t have one of those nightmares again.

_Even before he opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed was that it smelled rotten. So rotten it made his skin crawl. He didn’t want to open his eyes. Which reasonable person would want to open his eyes when it smelled like something had died? The next thing Piper noticed was that the only sound he could hear was the rumble of a train with no other passengers. No chatting or annoyed complaining from old women. And with that realization he opened his eyes to look directly into dead ones. He backed away until the chain on the wrist snapped and he almost fell over the wooden boxes – this was not a passenger train.  
What was he chained to? Ohh my god.  
The man from the café, the man the radio mentioned, covered in blood with a bullet hole on his head. TRICKSTER!  
He rushed over to him and knelt in front of his bloody head which smelled rotten, like it had laid there for days, and dead. He tried not to care. Even upside-down, Trickster’s face was handsome. Or it would have been handsome if it wasn’t covered in blood.  
Tears were falling onto Trickster cheeks. Piper couldn’t stop crying. Crying over the man he had once called his best friend, his colleague, his partner, and who he had wished more often than not that they could be something more.  
Because Trickster always had the talent to warm him with his bright smile and laughs.  
“Not him, not now!  
Not him, not now!  
NOT HIM NOT NOW!” _

Hartley was up and on his way to the toilet even before he registered waking up. He opened and closed the thankfully unlocked restroom door before he dived his head towards the toiletand threw up.  
A rotten smell like something from an overheated dead body just wouldn’t leave his nose. He couldn’t even remembered what he had dreamed, at least not much.  
Afterwards, Hartley had cleaned himself up and gotten himself a little bit under control at last. Which wasn't saying much, because no one would describe barely walking on two legs with noticeable shaking as under control.  
However, he didn't return to his seat because he decided to look for something to eat. He really shouldn’t be hungry after he had just thrown up, but he felt like he hadn’t eaten or drank anything in months.

 

If Hartley knew what to do, he wouldn’t be here. He wouldn’t need to be here, because he had closed this part of his life. But he didn’t know what to do anymore, so he was standing in front of one of the Rogues’ old hideouts. It was the third he tried; he hoped that they were using at least one that he knew of. He broke the door and went for the “living room” or rather where the poker table and fridge were.  
The good thing was that after their fight together, they wouldn’t attack him on sight at least.  
After about a minute of wandering, he started hearing an unmistakable sound, the Rogues. He quickly checked that his flutes and weapons were within reach. You could never be careful enough, and then he jerked open the door.  
As he expected, in a matter of seconds weapons were pointed at his direction before one of them lowered his weapon in surprise. “Hartley? What are you doing here?” He had not known that Cold was back, but it was a nice surprise. After all, they were kind of friends, the Rogues, even when he played for the different side now. He looked around but he didn’t see Heat Wave. What had happened to him? “You didn’t bring the cops with you, did you?” The lowered Cold Gun aimed back at him again. Why did he have one of his old guns? “I didn’t. Nobody knows that I’m here. I just wanted to ask if you know some things I wanted to find out?”  
“The hero needs help, huh?” Glider’s egotistical snarl came from above him. “And what have you to offer for it?” “I already helped you fight against all those guys the last time.” Then he fixed his gaze to the other person who hovered in the air.  
“Axel, do you know anything about the guy who helped in the city underground wears your colors?” "No, but when I get my hands on him... there is only one Trickster!" “It was his name first, not yours!” Hartley couldn’t help but scream even when he didn't mean to. He didn’t even know why. This was bad! He saw the shocked and confused expression on Axel and from the corner of his eye he could see similar expressions on the others’ faces and tightened grips on their weapons. “I don’t know why I said that.” He stumbled back a little. Admitting it out loud was even worse than it was in his head.He could see concern on Glider’s face. “Is everything okay, Hartley?” “Yes, of course. But if nobody knows anything, this isn’t the place where I should be. I will look elsewhere for clues.. Bye!” The last sentence he practically screamed over his shoulder as he stormed out of the room. He just couldn’t stand it! Those confused and if you really paid attention, worried looks, because they would never show their concern openly. They were villains, but Hartley had spent a part of his life with them, he knew how to read them. So seeing them, even if they would never admit it in that fashion, he just couldn’t. He was really starting to lose his mind! He had to find this guy! He didn’t know why but he thought that by finding him, it would help him! At least in some kind of way.

_Not him, not now,  
not now  
not NOW! _

Hartley woke up with a jolt from his nightmare. Or was it a vision? He didn’t know what to call it anymore, but he did know that they would not leave him alone. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and made his way to the bathroom. After his hair was wet from splashing water on his face he leaned on the sink and studied himself in the mirror, he didn’t look good. He had deep, dark circles around his eyes with fitting tired eyes. His hair faded into a reddish-blond and this had to stop. He couldn’t live like this! He had to fix it, before he had to transporter to Arkham or Breedmore.  
Find that man was now his top priority.  
“I’m taking a few more days away from work to sort things out.”  
David looked up from his bagel. Hartley had bought breakfast today.  
“What things do you need to sort out? If it has anything to do with those dreams, I’d say they’re not normal!”  
“No, it doesn’t! At least, not really.”  
David had laid down his breakfast and took Hartley's hands into his own. The gesture was warm and comforting.  
"Tell me what's worrying you so we can work together to get through this. Is this about the disaster with my family?"  
“It’s just, just. Arghh I can really explain. But I have to go and sort it out.”  
He looked into the brown eyes. “  
I have to go alone.”  
The eyes showed confusion, hurt, and anger in equal parts.  
"If that's what you want. Don't tell me."  
“No, no! That’s not it! I just have to figure something out!”  
“Then why can’t I help you?”  
David had raised his voice, but then caught himself before he continued  
“Sorry, just. I know that you don’t feeling well and you don’t look well too, but I don’t get how. Sorry, I just--- I know you've not been feeling well and looking ill lately, but I don't understand how you going off on your own would help you."  
He took a deep breath and looked at the ground.  
"Just... do what you think is right. I love you, Hartley."  
“I …” _Not him, not now!_  
“I really have to leave.” With that, he turned around and walked out of the apartment. When he closed the door, he could see the hurt expression on his boyfriend’s face. He wished he could help, but he really had to do this.

 

As a criminal, you never really stopped having connections to the underground. Even if you are reformed, you still know people. People who have never committed crimes, but still stayed in contact with those who did. Like bartenders and owners of bars often frequented by criminals and ex-convicts. So, it wasn't really difficult to find information with the assurance that he wouldn't arrest his intel and after giving him a good compensation, he was told that there was a man who was mostly known for his Trickster-like clothing and went by the name "Gio"  
Hartley searched for almost two days at places “Gio” was known for being in often and making business there, before he saw a - at least from behind - person fitting the description.  
He marched over to the other person.  
“Hey.”  
When the person turned around,  
he had sunglasses on and as far Hartley can tell, his eyes remained on the ground.  
“I know you! I know you somehow!”  
The blond guy still had his eyes trained on the ground as he replied.  
“Yeah, I remember when I accidently bothered you and your boyfriend.”  
“No, not from that. I know you from somewhere else. I don’t know why but I just do. I know this sounds crazy.”  
“It really does.”  
“Then why won’t you look me in the eyes?!”  
“Because, because-- Okay, fuck it. I have to do this at least once.”  
And with some fast steps forward, the blond was standing in front of him with his lips on Hartley’s.  
It was a really quick kiss. A pair of lips pressed like a butterfly on his and then it was already over. Before he could do anything, even with his vigilante reflexes, the blond took a few big steps back before lifting his glasses and rubbing his nose.  
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me, or I actually do know but that’s not important. I should go!”  
The blond guy’s gaze turned up and Hartley saw blue eyes. Those blue eyes he had cared for, blue eyes he had loved and hated, the eyes of the annoying shit who was one of his best friends.  
“James!”  
And after his name came over his lips, his knees gave away. He had nothing to hold on to. He pressed his hand over his eyes when the flood of memories came over him. A flood of memories of another life, a life he lived with people he cared for but never met in this. He tried to steady his breath rate which had rapidly increased. Deep breaths in and out.  
This was like the time when Wally had freed him from the Top's mental manipulation of his memories, but this was worse, far worse. This was a whole new life and not some jacked memories. At that time he had passed out, but he couldn’t allow himself to do that now. If he passed out now, he would may never be able to track Trickster down again. At least he now knew he was not crazy. This was real, too real, and a part of him wished it wasn’t. A part of him which had just wanted to live happily with David.  
He took a few more deep breaths before he forced himself to open his eyes and see through his hands. Trickster was kneeling in front of him, his arm was slung over his shoulder and he hadn’t noticed. He hadn’t even noticed that James had moved, "he had been afraid that he would already be gone when he could get himself at least a bit more under control. But how could you, if another life's worth of memories drop right into your head next to your current one!  
He took a few more breaths and then looked up at James' face, which was sad but comforting with understanding eyes - but does he really understand? - and his bright Trickster smile.  
Hartley tried to smile but he just couldn’t do it, so he just grabbed the Trickster-like bright, yellow jacket in a half-attempted hug.  
“It’s all gone!”  
He clenched his hands into the fabric.  
“I know.”  
“Wally, Linda, Irey, Jai, even Digger, and I didn’t meet any of them, they never had any impact on my life. I don’t even know if they exist. All the people who should be alive are dead and people who were dead are alive.”  
Sam flashed through his mind.  
“And you! You died, you died to save me. Before that I had to endure five months of horrible gay jokes and now you're kissing me?!”  
“I needed to push you, to move forward, and you are the strongest when pissed off. And I didn’t really want to accept that part of me, not until I realized that I would die for you, because without you, it would be a world without music and color.”  
“I-- I don’t know what to say, James.”  
“You don’t have to say anything!”  
“I do, I really do. I have to say that I’m happy that you are alive and here. But how?”  
“I tricked my way.”  
Hartley punched his arm, but it wasn’t really a hard punch.  
“Let me tell you the short version.”  
Trickster’s eyes looked haunted and Hartley realized that he probably shouldn’t press further, at least not now.  
“After I became a Black Lantern and was defeated, I had to hang out a bit in purgatory because of reasons.” James eyes wandered around, looking everywhere but into Pipers eyes.  
“And then screwy things with the timeline and Flash – it’s all Flash’s fault - happened. But I could trick my way – of course - into forming a whole new universe at that moment and here I am!”  
Trickster tried to smile but even with his eyes half-closed it looked like it wasn’t worth a penny.  
“And then you met me.”  
“After I looked things up and realized I didn't exist in this universe, I thought I'd be able to get help from a friend, but I realized that you couldn't remember me like everybody else and that you were happy with your boyfriend and life. At least, you seemed to be. I didn’t want to intervene and destroy it. So I went underground, organized myself and others and helped where I could.”  
“But now I remember. Now I can help you! We can make a place for you!  
His memories floated around his head, he didn’t know which belonged to his old one or the new one. His new one with…  
“How about David? I love him.”  
“Do what makes you happy. Like I said, I just wanted that one kiss.”  
“Who are you and what have you done with Trickster?”  
And they both had to laugh. He saw the bright smile finally reached his eyes and his heart made a little jump.  
Trickster stood up and he noticed how cold his knees were after kneeling in the alley. But he didn’t really mind. He took the offered hand and yes and tells himself that yes, they were going to make this work.

 

And they did made it work, at least kind of. With James knowledge of the FBI and fake identities. It was easy to create a new one. One as a guy who specialized in special effectsfor a job in Central City. James said he didn’t wanted to leave the Gem Cities at the moment. Not when the only person who knew who he really was lived there. At that, Piper had just smiled.  
They shared meals and watched Loony Toons together.  
“I thought you outgrew these things in the FBI.”  
“I realized that life is too short to give a fuck about shit like that. Just do what you enjoy.” James had smiled his bright smile at him with a half-eaten candy between his teeth and he seemed so alive and positive that Piper had just wanted to close the distance between them and kissed him. Instead, he said, “The black suit never suited you anyway.”  
Piper or rather, Hartley - he was still Hartley especially when it comes to David- knew that he couldn’t do this for long.  
But he loved David, he loved David so much and he would never cheat on him. He didn’t deserve that. But James just made him happy, it was a totally different corner of love and Trickster had died for him. They had been living together awhile. He was the only person who could understand and remember their different lives and remember everything that happened then, of course it changed him, the last weeks had changed him and every time they talked about the caped community, it became clearer and clearer.

 _He opened his eyes and he saw an endless sky with green and silver patterns.  
So he was dreaming again.  
“Do you think it would be appropriate to congratulate you, for remembering your previous, or shall I say, other life?”  
Piper turned around. On a rock shaped like a dice sat an older man dressed in old looking green gear. He was wearing an eye-catching red hat with a feather. The “Rattenfänger”.  
“Oh yes, the ratcatcher. The most famous by far but not the first and not the last, like you can clearly see.” The man jumped from the dice and began pacing around Piper.  
He didn’t really understand, but nothing in this place had ever made sense. Maybe now that could change. He could ask, he just didn’t know where to start.  
“I am the Pied Piper ,or ratchatcher, Rättenfänger, whichever you prefer. But that isn't important. Now, as for your questions..."  
The Rattenfänger - Hartley couldn’t bring himself to think of him as the Pied Piper - carried on, ignoring that Hartley hadn’t voiced any of his questions out loud.  
“This place in your mind is more than a dream, but is still only a place that exists in the minds of the ones who are chosen. Desaad hadn’t known as much about the Equation as he wanted to.”  
Hartley clenched his fist at the mention of the name.  
“The Equation and this place - whatever you want to call it, I’ve always called it, the “Schatten”-, is only as powerful as the holder is willing to go.”  
The Rattenfänger walked, and with every stride he took he got closer to Hartley.  
“As to why you woke up in this place, or rather, why your mind had awaken here, it needed a safe harbor as it tried to make sense of the two lives in his head. Never easy for any mind.”  
The man stood to a stop right in front of Piper and looked at him with intense eyes. He tried to voice a question, but like before, he was cut off before he could make a sound.  
“No, this doesn’t have to make sense. At least not now. But you will have enough time to think about it.” He turned away and walked back again to the dice.  
“Maybe we will talk whenever you visit this place again.If you choice.”  
The Rattenfänger tipped his hat and_ Piper opened his eyes and saw the ceiling of his bedroom.

In the end, all of it didn't matter, and more came back to him. After all that has happened in the last few weeks, he knew what he had to do. He loved David deeply, he really did, but it was just not enough. And so, he gather all the courage he could muster and faced the music. “I want to end things.” Okay, maybe he shouldn’t be crying, but he couldn’t stop it. And the confused and hurt look in those brown eyes just made the tears flow faster.  
“Hartley, I don’t understand! Why? Is it because of the situation with my family? I know I could have handled it better, but I was totally overwhelmed at that moment.” Hartley tried to stop his tears before he answered, tried to come up with a good explanation, but after a few attempts of wiping away his tears and trying to remember his memories for explanations he just said what came to his mind.  
“No, it’s not that. Not really. It’s…it’s everything. And memories and another universe that isn’t really another universe and somebody, and- ohh god.”  
He gripped his hair. It was almost completely blond. He should dye it again.  
“Somebody?!”  
David's voice began to rise, but before he could even start that sentence, that accusation---  
“NO!" Hartley didn’t want to hear it. Even if David was kind of right. "I didn’t cheat on you! Really, I didn’t! He's just a friend! Or was for a long time. And I can’t- I can't really explain! It’s just better this way. I think. I hope. Because I think this will hurt us both less in the long run.”  
And Piper tried to smile like Hartley used to smile at David but it must look horrible with all the tears. He waited until David’s seemingly endless flow of words stopped before he left.  
Piper rang on Trickster's doorbell, the man opening the door with a bright smile which vanished the second he saw Piper's tear-stained face.  
The hug was tight and warm. James drew soothing little circles on Piper’s back and mumbled into his ear. “Everything is going to be fine. I promise.”


End file.
